The Happily in the Ever After
by Christi Whitson
Summary: This is the epilogue for my Right from the Start series. It's a collection of one-shot chapters that take place after the third installment. Please make sure you read the series in order to avoid spoilers and confusion. As always, it's rated M for a reason. Complete!
1. Chapter 1

**As promised, this is the epilogue for the Right from the Start series. This chapter is just part 1, and right now it's looking like there will be about 8 parts. I know that's long for an epilogue, but apparently brevity is not my thing. I'm not planning to post on a schedule, but if you've been following my updates, you know that I'm not one to drag things out. After this is complete, the series will be done. I will keep writing, but I'm moving on to other ideas.**

 **Enjoy and please review!**

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Epilogue  
Part 1

For a man less than two weeks off of a gunshot to the chest, Seeley Booth was in remarkably good spirits. Yes, he was in pain, but it couldn't seem to touch his constant state of elation. His wife was pregnant. _Pregnant_. They were having a _baby_. The thought of their child growing within her made his still-aching chest swell with joy. He didn't even need the narcotic pain relievers the hospital had sent home with them.

How many times had he pictured her body changing, growing heavy with their child? Hundreds? _Thousands?_ He'd been dreaming about it ever since he'd realized that she was the only one he would ever want. Now it was really happening. They would have a daughter with Brennan's quick wit and breathtaking beauty… Or perhaps a son with her sharp mind and unfailing courage. The thought brought a giddy smile to Booth's face.

He watched his wife flit about their bedroom, double-checking that he had everything he might need within his reach. She'd helped him into a reclining position on the bed and had practically ordered him to go to sleep, but there was no quieting his mind.

"You're supposed to be resting," Brennan reminded him. "This is the third time I've caught you grinning at me like a…"

"I think the phrase you're going for ends with 'buffoon.' 'Lunatic' might work too," he replied cheerfully, inwardly acknowledging the stiffness in his cheeks.

"You should close your eyes. Do you want your medicine?"

"Nope. I want _you._ Come lay with me."

"Booth, you can't possibly have sex right now," she sputtered in disbelief. His cheesy smile remained in place.

"I'll be good," he promised. "I just want you next to me. Please?" She rolled her eyes at his pout and settled herself on her side of the bed. Booth leaned carefully toward her for a kiss, and she met him halfway.

"Will you get some sleep now?"

"We'll see," Booth shrugged his good shoulder. His eyes drifted to her abdomen, and his glee bubbled in his chest once more. "How are _you_ feeling? Have you been sick today?"

"Just a little this morning, but it passed quickly."

"Maybe you should rest. You look tired."

"I'll sleep when you sleep," she smirked.

"Sorry, baby. I'm just so happy." _Wow, my cheeks really are sore,_ he mused, trying to relax his face.

"I know, Booth. I am too. I'm sorry I didn't just tell you right away. It was silly of me."

"Bones, we talked about that. It's completely understandable that you wanted to wait for the right moment. We were in the middle of a case."

"Speaking of which," Brennan said softly, her expression sobering considerably.

"Do we really have to get into that right now?" he interrupted, easily able to predict her change of subject. "It's over. Let's just focus on the baby and be happy, okay?"

"No, Booth. It's not over, because it's nearly all I've been able to think about for the past week. We need to talk about it. _You jumped in front of a bullet_. Not three months ago, you promised me that you wouldn't put yourself in unnecessary danger, and _then_ you put yourself between me and a crazy woman with a gun." Her eyes were shimmering with unshed tears, and Booth's giddy smile had faded.

"Bones, there's no way in hell I would've just let her shoot you. Come on. You can't seriously tell me that you'd have preferred she shoot _you_ instead," he challenged. She bit her lip hesitantly. He was right, and she knew it. But she didn't have to like it.

"I would've preferred you to shoot _her_ before she was able to pull the trigger at anyone."

"You know there wasn't time for that," Booth said gently. He took her hand and encased it with his own. "I'm sorry I scared you, baby. But I'm _not_ sorry I took a bullet for you. It wasn't just your life I saved, and I'd do it again in a heartbeat." He pulled her close enough for another kiss and was pleased when he felt her relax against him. When the kiss ended, their foreheads touched, and he gazed into her fathomless blue eyes.

"I _was_ scared. I was so terrified that I was losing you… that _we_ were losing you. And now, I can't even ask you to promise never to do it again, because I know you'd be lying."

"You're right," he agreed. "But I can promise to be careful. I'll keep my eyes and ears open, take every precaution, follow every protocol…"

"You did all of that with Pam," she reminded him. "There was nothing you could've done differently that would've prevented her from coming into that bar with a gun."

"You're right," Booth admitted. "We've gotta let it go, Bones. I'm alive, you're alive, the baby's okay. I'll heal quickly; I always do. You'll take good care of me." The smile was back, and his voice took on a slightly teasing quality. He kissed her again and continued truthfully, "You always do."

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Booth winced as he shrugged into his dress uniform and analyzed his appearance in the bathroom mirror. He was pleased that it still fit. His eyes flickered to Brennan's disapproving frown as she watched from the open doorway. As she'd expected, Booth was in full support of Cullen's plan to fake his death. The fact that this particular fugitive had successfully eluded his team had always bothered him. What Brennan didn't anticipate, however, was Booth's insistence upon making the arrest himself. He intended to pose as a member of the honor guard and watch for the man to appear.

"I still don't like this. Another agent can handle the arrest; it's not like you're the only one who knows how to work a set of handcuffs," she grumbled. Booth bit back a smile. Now that they knew she was pregnant, her mood swings finally made sense.

"I know that, Bones. I just… I need to be the one to do it. It's been nearly five years. I want to be the one to end it."

"You just got shot. You need more time to recover," she argued. "Besides, if the guy shows up at your supposed funeral and spots you, he'll run and possibly get away again."

"That's why I'm in disguise. Don't worry; it'll work out." He turned to face her and stood a little taller when her eyes raked over his uniform. "You like it?" he asked suggestively.

"I'd like it better in the closet where it belongs," Brennan lied unconvincingly. Booth grinned at her stubbornness and wrapped his arms around her waist, pleased that his wound didn't hurt with the movement.

"How about on the floor next to the bed?" Neither could hold back their smiles now, and Brennan sighed in defeat.

"Maybe later."

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As they neared Arlington National Cemetery, Brennan took a deep breath to fortify her nerves. She had hoped that they could both be spared the ordeal of attending Booth's fake funeral. Brennan had wanted to abstain for emotional reasons, and Booth had wanted her to stay home for safety reasons. Since Brennan hadn't wanted him to go either, they'd compromised. They would both go, and they'd both be as careful as possible. He'd shown her a picture of the man they were hoping to catch, and she hoped the job would be done quickly. The presence of other agents was reassuring, but no one would be able to make this experience any less painful for Brennan.

As Caroline gave the eulogy, Brennan's eyes gravitated toward her husband repeatedly. She was trembling slightly, trying her hardest not to recall how close they'd come to this farce becoming a reality. The fear that had broken her during those hours between the shooting and Booth's return to consciousness still lingered in the back of her mind. Brennan closed her eyes for a moment and forced herself to focus. She tuned out Caroline's words and avoided the expressions of false grief on the faces of her friends. When her eyes weren't scanning the small crowd for signs of the fugitive, they were adhered to her husband's face.

Booth stood at attention on one end of the honor guard formation. He was studying the faces of every man in the small crowd, save for those he recognized on sight, and when he spotted one from his past, it wasn't the one he'd been expecting.

It was his father.

Edwin Booth looked older than his actual age, and his eyes were bleak. He seemed sober, and he stared at the casket with grief and regret etched in every line of his face. The air caught in Booth's chest, and it was all he could do not to break formation, cross the small patch of grass, and physically pull his wife away from his father. He was standing mere feet from her, but he was outside of her line of sight.

For years, he'd been assuming that his father was dead. No one in his family had heard from Edwin since the day Hank had thrown him out of his own house. Booth was now regretting the decision not to use his professional resources to track the man down. His survival and protective instincts were still triggered by his father, and it hadn't even occurred to him that the man might show up for the funeral of the son he'd abused.

Booth shook himself mentally and forced his eyes away from his father. His eyes returned to their previous task of searching the crowd for the criminal's face, but it wasn't until after the guard had fired the third shot that Booth finally recognized him. The man had quietly joined the collection of fake mourners, and Booth stepped out of the formation to confront him. He was vindicated slightly by the look of shock on the fugitive's face, but it was clear that the man had no intention of coming quietly.

A scuffle broke out between them, knocking the casket open in the process. There was no body inside, of course, other than the mannequin they'd used to add some extra weight. Brennan pulled the leg out of the casket and swung it hard into the fugitive's head. The man collapsed to the ground almost instantly.

"Nice shot, Bones," Booth praised her. He bent down to cuff the unconscious man, but he failed to hide a wince of pain from his wife. She sighed and snatched the cuffs from his hands, closing them around the man's wrist herself.

"There," she huffed as two undercover agents carried the man away. "It's done. Let me look at your incision. You probably tore a stitch."

Booth allowed her to fuss over him as he scanned the crowd again, this time looking for his father. He was gone. Booth's hat had come off in the scuffle, effectively revealing his identity, and he supposed that Edwin must've fled while everyone had been distracted.

"What's wrong?" Brennan asked, studying her husband's troubled expression as they climbed back into the SUV. He waited until they'd pulled the doors shut before he answered her.

"I saw my dad," he replied grimly.

" _What?"_ Her eyes were wide with shock, and she turned back to search the dispersing crowd. "Where? Which one was he?"

"He's gone now," he soothed her, shaking his head at the fierce expression on her face. Edwin had made the right choice by fleeing when he'd had the chance; Brennan looked like she wouldn't have minded a few rounds on the mat with the man. She looked back at Booth as he steered the vehicle toward the main entrance.

"Are you sure it was him?"

"Yes. He looked… weird."

"How so?"

"He looked sober," Booth answered wryly. "And upset. And at least ten years older than he actually is… And he was standing way too close to you. I very nearly blew the whole thing just to get you away from him. I don't understand why he'd show up after all these years."

"Guilt," Brennan said wisely. Booth scoffed at the idea.

"I don't remember _ever_ seeing that particular emotion on his face. I wouldn't even know what it looks like."

"Well, if he's been out of contact with your family all this time, then he would've seen the news reports of your death. He would've had no reason not to believe them. Maybe he wanted… closure."

"He doesn't deserve it," Booth muttered bitterly. Brennan agreed with him softly and reached over the console to hold his hand.

Booth wasn't sure what to make of Brennan's assessment of the situation. He remembered wondering, not too long ago, how he would react if his father came back into his life the way Max had reentered Brennan's. As a boy, he'd never truly understood that his father had had a sickness, an addiction that had governed his actions and his thoughts. Booth had spent hours as a teenager, imagining the things he'd have liked to get off his chest were he ever granted the opportunity to speak to his father again. Now, however, he found himself feeling grateful that Edwin had run off like a coward. He had no desire to see or speak to the man ever again, and he certainly didn't want him anywhere near his family.

"You know," Brennan said hesitantly, pulling him from his thoughts. "It probably wouldn't be too hard to track him down now. Since we know he's in town…"

"No," Booth replied immediately, shaking his head. "It's not like with you and Max. Regardless of what Max has done to others, he has always loved his children and treated them as well as he could under the circumstances. That's not the case with Edwin." Brennan squeezed his hand but kept silent, realizing that it was the first time she'd ever heard him speak his father's name. "I have no intention of letting him into our lives, Bones. It was hard enough to stand in formation and see him standing so close to you. We have Parker and the new baby to think about too. No way in hell is that man coming near my family."

"Okay," she nodded placatingly. "I understand why you feel that way." Brennan could sense from his demeanor that he didn't want to discuss the matter further, so she decided to simply let it go. She felt slightly disappointed on his behalf, knowing now how it felt to make amends with her own father. However, the cases were indeed very different. She knew that Booth's logic was sound, and she accepted it willingly.

It still amazed her that Booth had come through such a horrific childhood to become the incredible man sitting next to her now, and in that moment, she found herself feeling even more grateful for Hank Booth.

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 **Betcha didn't see _that_ coming, huh? ;) This idea got a hold of me when I was writing that scene in HIO where Booth tries to imagine how he'd feel if his father returned. When the FBI informed the people on his list, his parents obviously wouldn't have been on it, but they would've probably seen the news coverage if they were local. This is another reason I was ticked at the way they brought back his mom in S8. In my universe, she really _is_ dead. Otherwise, she would've come back for her sons a long time ago.**

 **Part 2 will deal with Zack's unraveling. Stay tuned. :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you for the wonderful feedback, as always. Enjoy!**

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Epilogue

Part 2

The week following Booth's faux funeral was exhausting in more ways than one. Gormogon had resurfaced with another body part delivered via mail, though this one had been sent to the lab as opposed to their home address. The case had unfolded quickly, but unlike the other Gormogon-related murders they'd investigated, this one brought about a conclusion to the mystery. The apprentice had revealed himself, and Gormogon had been taken out. Booth, Brennan, and their team should've been able to find some relief in the closure of their case, but that had been cruelly denied them.

Because Gormogon's apprentice was none other than Dr. Zack Addy.

Every member of the team was berating themselves for failing to realize that something was going on with him. Whether it was Sweets, who felt that he had missed something in his professional observations, or Hodgins, who was angry that his best friend had fallen prey to someone like Gormogon, everyone was feeling guilty. And Brennan was perhaps suffering through the worst of it. At nearly twelve weeks pregnant, her nausea had waned, and her physical energy was returning as well. Her emotional exhaustion, however, was overwhelming. While the rest of the squints had missed the signs, Booth and Brennan _had_ noticed things, and now they were left with the remorse.

"Bones, you've got to eat. Are you feeling sick?" Booth watched her push her food around her dinner plate with a morose expression on her face. It had been another difficult day in a long line of difficult days, and her appetite had abandoned her.

"No," she shrugged, not meeting his eyes. Her mind was a million miles away, or rather approximately thirty miles away at the psychiatric hospital that was now Zack's home. He'd been released from the hospital that day following treatment for the third-degree burns on his hands. It would be some time before he'd be able to use them again, and even then, his doctors were predicting sixty-percent functionality.

"I know today was hard, baby. You know this was the right way to go though, right?"

"Yes," she sniffed. "I trust Caroline's judgment as well as yours, I just… I _failed_ him."

"Maybe we all did, Bones." She looked up at him with her sad, blue eyes and waited for him to continue. "We all brushed off his long lab hours, thinking he was just being anti-social as usual, but it did occur to me that it might've been a coping mechanism for PTSD. And I know Cam talked to him a little about his time in Iraq… I should've made a point to talk to him about it. I mean, maybe he would've opened up to me, maybe…" He trailed off dejectedly, and Brennan's expression shifted to one of sympathy.

"He probably wouldn't have… But he might have talked to _me_. Why didn't I ask? I'm one of the only people who understands Zack, and I… I don't know if I can even say that anymore." She put her fork down and took a long drink of her ice water. "Logic or no logic, his actions shocked me. Gormogon tried to kill us _both_ , he nearly drowned a _child_ , he killed many innocent people in absolutely horrific ways… How is it that I didn't notice how vulnerable Zack was to the influence of someone like that? What if I _had_ noticed? Would I have been able to stop him? To _save_ him?"

Her eyes had steadily filled with tears while she spoke, and they spilled over her lashes as she finally gave up the pretense of eating her meal. Booth stood from his chair and came around the table to sweep Brennan out of hers. He carried her to the living room, releasing a weary sigh as he settled on the couch with her on his lap. There was nothing he could say to comfort her that he hadn't already said, so he merely held her against his chest and did his best to soothe her, stroking her dark hair until she fell asleep in his arms.

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Brennan glanced curiously at her surroundings as she was led by an orderly to a patient visitation room at McKinley Psychiatric Hospital. When they reached the tiny room, Zack was waiting for her at a small table, and he greeted her with a hesitant smile. His hands were heavily bandaged, and there was a new awkwardness about him. He'd never seemed particularly comfortable in his own skin, but this was a new level of discomfort. Brennan thanked the orderly and watched him close the door to give them privacy.

"Your ilia have widened by approximately twelve percent," Zack announced in his typical blunt manner. "I'd noticed your gait changes before, but I wasn't certain of the cause. How many weeks pregnant are you?"

"Almost twelve," Brennan smiled approvingly, pleased as usual with his superb skills of observation. A second later, she was struck again by the disheartening amount of waste created by Zack's actions. He was the most brilliant mind she'd ever had the privilege of knowing, and now he would be imprisoned for the rest of his life.

"Have you told anyone yet?" he asked, pulling her back into the conversation.

"Well, Booth knows, of course. We decided to wait until twelve weeks before telling our friends and family, so we'll be doing that fairly soon."

"Congratulations. My sisters could never wait that long to tell people when they were expecting my nieces and nephews." They shared a smile, but Zack's eyes were sad. "I'll probably never see them again. Children aren't allowed in the facility, and by the time they're grown, they'll have forgotten me."

Brennan's chest twinged painfully, and she wished that she could reach across the table to hold his hand. She knew that would cause him pain, however, so she did her best to show her sympathy in her expression. She couldn't find the words to argue with his assessment of the situation, and he looked back at her anxiously.

"Are you ashamed of me?" he asked quietly, not quite meeting her eyes.

"No, Zack. Of course not. I… I wish you'd made different choices. I wish you'd talked to someone when you were struggling and feeling lost," she reasoned. "But I will _never_ be ashamed of you. You're still the best and brightest student I've ever taught, and you've done truly remarkable work. I'll always be proud of you for that."

He nodded a silent thanks, and after a few more minutes of awkward conversation, the orderly returned to announce that Zack's time was up. Brennan hugged him gingerly, careful to avoid his hands, and left the facility the same way she'd come. She sat in her car for a few minutes, trying to clear her mind enough to focus on driving home. She hadn't driven more than a few miles when her cell phone rang.

"Brennan," she announced, not bothering to check the caller ID.

"Hey, Bones. How'd it go?"

"It was… awkward. And sad. He's in a lot of pain, and there isn't really anything to be done for him." Booth could hear the hopelessness in her voice, and he wished more than anything that he could fix the situation.

"I'm sorry, baby. It'll be a big change for him, on several levels. We'll just have to do the best we can to help him adjust." He paused and heard her sigh in response. "Hey, where are you? I was calling because the squints want to get together in a little while at a bar Cam likes. I think everyone just wants to cut loose a little, you know?"

"Yeah, okay. What's it called?"

"The Founding Fathers. It's a pub a few blocks away from the lab."

"I know where it is. I can't drink though," she reminded him.

"Yeah, I know. If anyone notices, maybe we can just make the announcement. You'll be twelve weeks tomorrow, and everyone will be there. Everybody needs something positive to focus on right now anyway." She could hear the smile in his voice and felt her own lips curving upward in return.

"Okay. Maybe this weekend we could take Parker to visit Hank and tell them both together."

"Sounds good. What about your dad?"

"I'm pretty sure he already knows."

"How's that?"

"He made bacon for breakfast a few times."

"Oh," he snickered a little. "Right." Bacon had been banned several weeks ago when Brennan was suffering through a particularly violent bout of morning sickness. The smell had permeated the entire house, and although they had opened windows on both levels, she'd insisted that she could still smell it days later.

"I'm surprised he hasn't said anything. I'm sure it's driving him crazy."

"Well, we can give him a call this weekend. Russ and Amy too."

Brennan agreed with the plan and told him that she would see him at bar shortly. He was waiting at one of the high tables when she walked in, and she melted into his comforting embrace. Cam and Sweets were there as well, and Angela and Hodgins joined them a few minutes later.

Several quiet conversations buzzed simultaneously through the group. Sweets was talking Cam's ear off about a profile he'd recently completed, and Angela asked Booth how Parker was doing. Hodgins knew where Brennan had spent part of her afternoon, and he hesitantly asked for a status update on their friend.

"He's… different," she shook her head dejectedly. "He's sad; he's hurting. We need to help him."

"Well, yeah, we all want to help him, but what can we really do?" Hodgins replied. The rest of the group had stopped talking to listen to their conversation.

"I'm going to make sure he has what he needs as far as material things. He gets an allowance, but I plan to add to it. He was sending money home to his parents each month too, so I'm going to make sure that continues. But it's more than a financial issue. He needs to keep his mind occupied."

"So we should… what? Give him homework?" he asked with a dubious tone.

"Maybe," Brennan shrugged. "It's not silly if it helps him." Everyone sat in relative silence for a few moments, sipping their drinks absently. Hodgins' eyes fixed on the glass of water Brennan held, and he lifted one eyebrow curiously.

"So why aren't you getting tanked like the rest of us? After _my_ visits to the loony bin, alcohol is usually the first thing on the agenda," he said wryly. Brennan glanced at Booth for guidance, and they shared a secretive smile. He curled his arm around her shoulders and gave her a nod of encouragement.

"Well, I won't be drinking for a while… because I'm pregnant."

Exclamations of surprise and joy erupted from the small group, and there was a genuine smile on every face. They all took turns congratulating Booth and Brennan, exchanging hugs and well wishes. The only person who didn't appear completely surprised by the news was Angela, and she was quick to announce her reasoning.

"Well, now the fainting incident makes more sense," she chuckled. "I _thought_ it was more than stress, but you seemed so sure of yourself."

"I didn't know then," Brennan smiled. Booth, however, was definitely _not_ smiling.

"You _fainted_?" he asked in alarm, turning her barstool so that she faced him. The rest of the group may as well have disappeared. "When? What happened? Why didn't you tell me?" Brennan pursed her lips in chagrin and glanced at Angela's nervous expression.

 _Oops._

"Booth, it's very common in early pregnancy. I wasn't hurt," she assured him with a calm voice. "It was right before my dad's trial, and you know how much stress we were both dealing with. My blood sugar was low because I'd had no appetite, and I was a little dehydrated..."

"Bones, you _have_ to tell me about things like that. I can't take care of you if I don't know what's going on," he insisted. Brennan quelled the reflex to argue that she could take care of herself and felt herself nodding compliantly instead.

"Okay," she soothed. Booth sighed, his features still tense with anxiety, and he belatedly recalled that they still had an audience.

"So when are you due?" Angela asked, attempting to redeem herself by redirecting the conversation.

"December 15th," Brennan replied. "I'm twelve weeks tomorrow."

They spent the rest of the evening discussing baby-related things and passing around a sonogram picture Brennan had been carrying in her purse for several weeks. They'd gone to the doctor right after the fake funeral and had gotten their first glimpse of the baby. Everyone cooed and gushed over the tiny black and white image. When at last they decided to call it a night, Brennan left alone since she had driven separately. Booth pulled Angela aside on their way out.

"Hey, Ange. Look, it's not that I don't trust Bones, but…"

"You want me to call you if I notice anything off?" she guessed, smirking. He seemed relieved that she'd said the words for him.

"Will you? If she thinks I'll be worried about something, she'll go out of her way to keep it from me, and I need to know."

"I get it," Angela said earnestly. "I'll try to help keep her honest. I'm sorry I didn't tell you about it. Bren said she would, so I didn't bring it up. Same as with the blacking out at the hospital-"

" _What?!"_

"Uh…" she faltered, once again wearing her 'oops' expression. "Well, she was _extremely_ upset after the shooting. We had to hold her back so that she wouldn't follow you right into the OR. She was screaming and sobbing, and then she just collapsed. We were already in the ER, so they gave her IV fluids and had her lay down for a couple of hours. She didn't tell you about any of it?"

"No," Booth grumbled.

"Well, go easy on her. There was a lot going on; she probably just forgot."

Booth sighed and thanked Angela for her help. When he got home, Brennan was already upstairs getting ready for bed. He didn't want to chastise her or argue about the things she kept from him, but he had to be sure that she would be more forthcoming in the future. He kissed her hello but kept silent until they were lying side by side.

"Just say it," Brennan said knowingly. "I know you're upset."

"I'm more concerned than anything else, Bones. This happened _twice_ , and you didn't think to tell me about it either time?"

"Twice?" she echoed in confusion.

"Angela said you passed out at the hospital too."

"Oh, that."

"Yeah, _that_. I know there was a lot going on, but I would've thought you'd have gotten around to telling me eventually."

"I'm sorry," she sighed. "The first time, at work, I really did think it was stress-related. I knew you were already feeling guilty about having to testify and because I wasn't coping well, and I couldn't bring myself to make you feel worse. I knew you would've blamed yourself, even though it had nothing to do with you. So I kept quiet."

"And the other time?"

"I'd honestly forgotten about it by the time you woke up. Everything was so chaotic that night. I'd just found out about the baby, you were shot before I'd had a chance to tell you, you were in surgery, and then you were asleep for longer than you should've been... The fact that I fainted in the ER was the last thing on my mind. I haven't thought about it since."

Booth expelled a deep sigh of regret for all she'd been through in the past two months, wrapping his arms around her a little more tightly. She snuggled against him gratefully.

"Alright," he relented. "But I need you to promise me that you won't keep things like that from me. Maybe you forgot about the second time, but you deliberately kept it from me the first time. I understand your reasons, but you really should've told me. I want to take care of you and the baby, and means I need to know what's going on."

"I know, Booth." She stretched a little to press her lips against his. "I promise."

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 **There will be more overprotective Booth in the future, of course. And in case you're wondering about the timeline, they conceived in chapter 16 of HIO after Booth promised not to take unnecessary risks. Kudos to anyone who picked up on my foreshadowing there. :)**

 **Next time, we'll find out the sex of the baby and see what the hormones are doing to Brennan. Review if you've got a second, and have a wonderful day!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks for the feedback! I know I haven't been replying to all of the reviews, mostly because I've been busy due to the holidays, but I figure new material matters more than my thank-you PMs :)**

 **So, remember back in the first installment when BB joked about doing naughty things in his office? Well... I didn't forget about that. ;) Enjoy!**

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Epilogue

Part 3

Brennan rode the elevator up to Booth's office, bouncing slightly in her nervousness. Part of her wondered what the hell she'd been thinking when she'd come up with this plan, but it was too late to turn back now. The bullpen was quiet, and nearly all of the staff had gone home for the evening. Booth's office light was still on, as she'd known it would be, but he didn't look up from his desk to see her through the windows. He was bent over a sizeable stack of paperwork that had kept him in the office later than usual.

Brennan watched him for a few moments, admiring the firm set of his jaw as he focused on his work. After almost three years of partnership and spending nearly all of their time together, she had yet to grow tired of looking at him. He was as attractive to her in that moment as he'd been the first time she'd seen him. She opened his office door, successfully drawing his attention away from his casefiles.

"Hey," he greeted her, looking up in surprise. "I thought you said you left the lab hours ago and went home."

"I did go home… briefly," she replied evasively. Rather than cross the room to kiss him hello as usual, she turned away from him, locked the door, and methodically closed the blinds over his office windows and the glass door.

"Bones…?" His eyes were warm and curious as he watched her complete the task, and he belatedly realized that she was no longer wearing the outfit she'd gone to work in that morning. At some point, she'd changed into a sleeveless blue dress in a thin material he couldn't quite identify. The color brought out her eyes as well as the flush in her cheeks, and the zipper in the back stretched from neckline to hem. Her feet were encased in a familiar pair of heels, and Booth recognized them as the ones she'd worn the first time they'd made love in her office. His suspicions about her sudden appearance in _his_ office were confirmed by the sight of his wife's slightly devious smile as she made her way toward him.

"You've been working a lot of late nights this week," she said softly. "I thought maybe you might like some company… And I've missed you."

"I've missed you too, baby." He grinned as he tugged her gently onto his lap and captured her lips with his own. The kiss lingered and deepened when his fingers wove into her hair, and she felt his arousal beneath her.

"I need you," Brennan moaned.

This was not new information. Although Booth had indeed been working late every night that week, they'd still managed to have sex at least once a day. Brennan's fatigue and nausea had finally passed when she'd entered her second trimester, and her libido was more active than he'd ever known it.

Booth nodded, still kissing her, and reached for the zipper of her dress. She stood and turned slightly so that he could unzip her, and she smirked in satisfaction when she heard him gasp.

"Oh God, Bones," he groaned appreciatively. She'd left her undergarments at home. He'd been expecting some sort of lingerie set, but the miles of bare skin that greeted him made him instantly and almost painfully hard. He tossed her dress aside and gazed stupefied at the sight of her. His beautiful, pregnant wife stood before him in nothing but a pair of fuck-me heels.

Booth wasted no time attending to her needs, pushing his paperwork aside as he spread her out on his desk. His hands were everywhere: her silky hair, her full breasts, her thickening waist, her feminine hips, her wet folds… He left no inch of her skin untouched, and by the time he followed with his mouth to her heated flesh, she was nearly coming apart at the merest touch of his tongue.

Booth knelt on the floor and lifted her knees to rest on his shoulders, tasting and teasing until she lost all sense of control and thrust her hips involuntarily toward him. She came hard into his mouth, biting her tongue in an attempt to stay quiet. As Brennan lay panting on his desk, Booth made quick work of his belt and pants. He was inside of her before her tremors had completely ceased, and the sudden sensation of fullness tipped her over the edge of oblivion once again. He marveled at her body's response and continued to drive into her with long, deep strokes. They clung to one another, their breath intermingling as they kissed feverishly.

"I love you," she whispered, gasping when she felt her body quicken for a third time. When she climaxed yet again, Booth's release followed close behind, and he buried his face in her neck to muffle his cry of relief.

"I love you, baby."

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Booth glanced expectantly toward the stairs as he finished cooking the omelette he'd made for his wife and moved it onto a plate. They were expected at the Jeffersonian in an hour to meet with the director of the daycare facility, and Brennan was taking an abnormally long time to get ready to leave. Booth set their plates on the breakfast bar and called her name, but she didn't answer. As he climbed the stairs and entered their room, he heard her cursing from inside of their walk-in closet. There was a sizeable pile of clothing on the bed, and he was startled when a pair of pants sailed through the closet doorway to land atop the heap, narrowly missing his head.

"Bones?" he said cautiously.

"Nothing fits!" she growled. "How did this happen so quickly?"

"You're pregnant, baby."

" _Four_ months," Brennan emphasized. "How am I already too big for every pair of pants I own?!" Booth shrunk back involuntarily, hesitant to engage in what was turning into a hormonal tantrum. He ducked as a pencil skirt whizzed over his head.

"What about something with a stretchy waist like a skirt? Or another dress like what you wore the other day? You looked great in that."

"I only have heels to wear with that kind of thing, and my back hurts too much right now."

"What about sandals?" he suggested, peering cautiously into the closet. "It's July, baby."

"Yes," she replied testily, "but sandals are prohibited in the lab for safety reasons."

Booth sighed, feeling completely out of his element. Fashion was certainly not his thing. He'd always admired and approved of Brennan's style, but she'd never needed help like this before. He half considered calling Angela for an intervention, but there really wasn't time. He watched his wife pull on one of the sun dresses she'd worn on their honeymoon last year and was pleased that she didn't immediately whip it right back off.

"That one looks great, Bones," he encouraged. Brennan twisted from side to side in front of the full-length mirror.

"Are you sure? My breasts are already bigger, and it's a little tight," she said doubtfully. Booth bit back a smile. Yes, he'd definitely noticed that particular bonus.

"You look perfect," he told her truthfully. "And I think after our meeting, maybe you should have Angela go shopping with you. You can find some clothes that fit and some shoes that are comfortable and still okay for work, okay?" Brennan sighed, throwing another defeated look at her collection of high heels.

"Though I generally try to avoid shopping with Angela, I think you're right. I really can't put it off anymore." She slipped her feet into the leather sandals Booth had pointed out and stepped out of the closet, pausing to kiss him as she moved toward the door.

They ate their breakfast quickly and headed to the Jeffersonian. The daycare was in a part of the building Booth had never seen before, and he smiled at a pair of happy babies enjoying a snack in their high chairs. As he watched them, his excitement for impending parenthood surged once more, and he noted that Brennan was transfixed by them as well.

Their meeting with the daycare director went very well. It seemed to be a well-organized program that catered to children as young as six weeks and as old as five years. Brennan asked curiously if they had anything available for school-aged children, and the director gave them an overview of the after-school programs offered by the Jeffersonian.

"We have a son who will be entering second grade this fall," Brennan informed the woman. "How would we go about registering him for an after-school program?"

"I can help you with that. However, I should warn you that there is a bit of a wait list. Enrollment is higher than we originally expected, and he might have to wait until another instructor can be hired," the director explained apologetically.

To Booth's surprise, Brennan shifted gears slightly and began questioning the woman about the job requirements for such a position. He waited patiently until they were alone again before asking her about it.

"What was that all about? You're not really thinking about taking _another_ job, right?"

"No, of course not. I was thinking about my dad, actually."

"Really?"

"Sure. He taught science for years, and he needs a job. I know his past might be a concern, but they might be willing to overlook it if I vouched for him," she shrugged. Booth smiled approvingly at his wife. Even after all this time, she still managed to surprise him. Not only had she forgiven her father, she was now considering _inviting_ him into her 'house of reason.'

"I think it's a great idea, baby. Parker would love to get to spend some extra time with Max too, and he seems to be really great with kids. I can't see a school corporation hiring him with his background, but this is a privately funded institution. They have a little more leeway."

"So you don't think it's wishful thinking? Or inappropriate?"

"Not at all. We both know he's not dangerous, and he's never been convicted of anything but petty theft. Even that was thirty-some years ago. Plus, I'm sure if they actually met your dad, he'd be able to charm them into pretty much anything," Booth chuckled.

Brennan agreed, pleased that she had perhaps found a respectable, _legal_ means of employment for her father. She made a mental note to call him about it later that evening. If things worked out, she could potentially have both of her children as well as her father in close proximity on a daily basis. The idea was very appealing.

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The conversation with Max went well, and he agreed to put Brennan as a reference on his application for the position at the Jeffersonian. He was enthusiastic about the potential opportunity to teach once again, especially if that meant having the privilege to teach Parker as well.

Brennan spent the remainder of that week combing over student applications for internships at the Medico-Legal lab. She'd decided not to replace Zack with another full-time assistant but rather to utilize the skills of a handful of interns on a rotating schedule. She felt that the long hours and exposure to the disturbing elements of their cases were really too much to put on another assistant. For all they knew, perhaps Zack would've made different choices if his job had been just a little bit easier. It was with this in mind that Brennan and Cam worked together to come up with a new format.

Brennan would select five of her top students for paid internship, though it would be rare for more than one of them to be at the lab at the same time. Since the lengths of their cases varied, each intern would have the opportunity to work on most cases at some point in the forensic process, but their time off should help them in terms of processing the mental and emotional impact of the job. Sweets had given his enthusiastic approval of the plan and had even offered to counsel any member of the team who might feel the need to talk. Although Brennan might have scoffed at his offer in the past, she found herself actually appreciating it now. Avoiding another Zack-like situation was a top priority for everyone.

She met with each of her chosen interns individually to extend the offer, and they were all very grateful and eager to get to work. There were four men and one woman, though Brennan had her reservations about the latter. It had nothing to do with her gender, of course, but Daisy Wick had an irritatingly cheerful personality. If she hadn't been so exceptionally qualified, Brennan would've rescinded the offer the moment the bouncy young woman accosted her with a spontaneous hug.

Training the new interns on lab protocol was a lengthy and tedious business for all involved, but particularly for Hodgins. He was still moody in the wake of Zack's departure, and he regarded most of the interns as interloping children. Cam was concerned with his behavior at first, but Brennan assured her that Hodgins would eventually come around. The interns would simply have to earn his respect, just as Zack had done.

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"So we're agreed, then? Those are the names. No changies, no takebacks?" Booth shared an excited smile with his wife as they drove toward the doctor's office.

"Yes," she chuckled. They'd been going back and forth on baby names for weeks, but they'd finally settled on one for each gender. The doctor would do another sonogram at their appointment, and if the baby was cooperative, they should be able to see the sex.

"Which one do you think we'll get to use?" he asked eagerly.

"There's absolutely no way to know without medical testing, Booth. All of those old wives' tales are just folklore and myth."

"Well the office pool is up to a couple hundred on the odds of it being a girl."

"Why are people placing bets on our baby's gender?" Brennan asked in surprise.

"Something to do, I guess," he shrugged.

"Because FBI agents have nothing better to do?"

"It's just entertainment, Bones. Relax. No one means any offense by it."

"You didn't bet though…"

"Of course not," Booth assured her. Brennan hadn't really doubted his commitment to his gambling sobriety, but it did concern her a little that he was having to suffer through that kind of temptation in his own workplace.

"Well, I wish they'd stop. It's inappropriate," she muttered. Booth merely laughed.

"Then I assume you don't know about the one at the lab either? The squints think it's a boy. I guess we'll see." Brennan was dismayed to learn that her own colleagues were participating in a similar form of entertainment, but she decided to let it go for the time being. They'd arrived at their destination.

At twenty weeks, their baby was measuring just over six inches long and a little over half a pound. They held hands as they watched the black and white image on the screen, and Brennan found herself counting every rib and phalange. The heartbeat was strong at one hundred forty beats-per-minute, and when the doctor pushed a series of keys on her computer, the image became three-dimensional. They could no longer see the baby's bones, but instead they were presented with a picture of a tiny, perfect face. Booth was awestruck as he watched the tiny mouth move, and the doctor explained that the baby was swallowing amniotic fluid.

When at last the doctor completed her measurements, she moved the transducer a few inches to show the baby from another angle. Once they'd made the decision to find out the sex, they'd been a little nervous that the baby might not cooperate. They needn't have worried. Brennan could decipher the image easily, and she glanced curiously at Booth's smiling face.

"Can you tell?" she asked, grinning happily at her husband. His eyes were misty as he answered her question.

"It's a boy."

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 **Yes, I decided to depart from canon a little bit. You'll find out the name at the very end of the last part. Hope hormonal Brennan was fun to read about. We're not quite done with her yet, but next chapter will deal more with overprotective Booth.**

 **If I'm not able to post again before Christmas, I hope you all have a wonderful holiday!**

 **PS - Single moms don't really get Christmas gifts, so reviews are the next best thing! *nudge***


	4. Chapter 4

**Hope everyone had a wonderful holiday! Thank you for the reviews and feedback; it means so much to me!**

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Epilogue

Part 4

"Thank you for going out for this, Booth. I know it probably seems irrational…" Brennan shrugged off her brief moment of insanity in which her pregnant body had craved something they didn't have on hand. Booth had been all too willing to fulfill the request, especially when he realized what she was craving.

"Bones, my kid wanted _pie_. I'll go out for pie any time. I still can't believe you're actually eating it." He had a giddy smile on his face as he watched her devour another forkful of the cherry concoction.

"I can't either," she replied honestly. "It's actually not the first time I've thought about eating it, but-" Brennan stopped speaking abruptly and held a hand to her rounded stomach, her eyes widening in surprise.

"Bones? What's wrong?"

"Noth…" She stopped again, and a brilliant smile lit up her face. "Nothing's wrong. He's moving."

Booth was at her side in an instant, and she guided his hand to the appropriate place. They remained still as statues, waiting for another flutter of activity, but after several minutes, it was clear that their son wasn't in the mood to perform. Booth tried not to feel too disappointed.

"Keep eating that pie," Booth chuckled. "Maybe the sugar will wind him up a little."

"It's good, but it's missing something," Brennan mumbled around another bite. "Do we have any ice cream?" Booth's face lit up once again, and he swaggered over to the refrigerator.

"God, I love you, baby."

Booth woke up early the next morning to find Brennan stretched out against him. Her growing bump was pressing into his side, and he turned carefully to face her. Her slow, even breaths indicated that she was still sound asleep, and he said a quick prayer of thanks that she'd had a solid night's sleep. The pregnancy had begun to affect her dreams lately, and she was often awake well before he was.

He watched her sleep, appreciating the opportunity to really take her in. The changes in her body were fascinating to him, and he couldn't seem to stop looking at her. Booth hadn't thought it possible that his wife could become more appealing, more attractive to him. He'd always thought that the 'pregnant glow' people spoke of was mostly hype, but now he knew better. Brennan's beautiful skin really did seem to glow, and her eyes were nearly always bright with happiness and contentment. His eyes traced the length of her body, appreciating each curve in equal measure. Her body was filling out; her breasts were getting larger, her hips more rounded. She was walking differently, though it was not the waddle that he knew would come eventually. It was more of a sway.

Booth lifted her pajama shirt carefully and placed a hand on her bare stomach. Her expanding belly was undoubtedly his favorite change. Knowing that their child was growing inside of her made him almost euphoric with happiness. He was caught off guard when he felt movement beneath his hand, and he gasped in surprise. Booth shifted to place another hand on her belly, glancing at Brennan's face to see that she was still asleep.

Another flutter tickled his palm, and Booth felt his eyes stinging with unshed tears. Though he wasn't a first-time father, this particular experience had been denied him last time. He'd never truly realized how much he'd missed. The connection he felt with his child was almost as powerful as the one he knew he would feel when he finally got to hold his newborn son for the first time.

"Why are you crying?" Brennan's voice startled him _and_ their son. Booth moved one hand to his cheek to wipe away the moisture.

"They're happy tears, baby. I can feel him." His voice was no more than a slightly broken whisper, and he looked at her with eyes overflowing with love and wonder. He scooted down on the bed so that he could place a tender kiss on her belly. "Hey, buddy," he cooed. "It's your Daddy. Your Mommy and I love you so much."

Brennan's own eyes filled with tears as she watched him talk to their son. Booth told the baby all about the family he would be born into, the big brother who couldn't wait to meet him, and the things they would all do together. When the flutters eventually stopped, Booth returned to his original position and folded Brennan into a warm embrace.

"Thank you so much, Bones. I love you," he whispered into her hair.

"I love you too."

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Brennan sat in the SUV and kept her eyes trained on Booth through the windshield. He had drawn his gun and was edging cautiously around a run-down house where they believed their primary suspect was hiding. When he disappeared through the darkened entryway, she gripped the handle of the car door involuntarily, but she forced herself to stay put.

It wasn't the first time he'd made her promise to stay in the SUV during an investigation. At five months pregnant, Brennan didn't think she was anywhere near ready for maternity leave, but Booth was adamant that they take new precautions for her safety while in the field. If he thought a suspect might be even remotely dangerous, he would insist that she lock herself in the SUV until he gave the all clear. The last time she'd disobeyed that instruction, he'd threatened to leave her in the lab. Her delicate hormonal balance hadn't responded well.

The subject of field safety was a recurring discussion between them, and Brennan was doing her best to see things from her husband's perspective. Although she certainly had no desire to put their baby in danger, she still felt the need to protect Booth in the field. As she watched him exit the dilapidated structure and stride toward the vehicle, her muscles unclenched into a more natural posture.

"So?" she asked as he opened the door.

"The guy's an ass, but he doesn't know anything. I think we need to talk to the wife again."

"You _always_ think it's the wife."

"And statistically, I'm usually right."

"Was it really necessary to leave me in the car again?" she huffed.

" _Yes,"_ Booth said firmly. "The guy had multiple assaults on his record, Bones. Come on." Brennan's jaw tightened, but she did manage to contain her eye roll. "Look, I actually needed to talk to you about all of that."

"We seem to be at an impasse," Brennan replied.

"Yeah, but it's not just up to us." Booth took a fortifying breath and trudged on. "The Bureau is considering assigning me another partner until after you come back from maternity leave."

" _What?"_

"They're just covering their asses, Bones, you know that. It's a liability thing."

"I'm not on leave yet, Booth. We have months before we get to that point. _I'm_ your partner." She was not entirely surprised by his announcement, but that didn't make her any more willing to accept it.

"I know, baby. You'll _always_ be my partner. This would just be temporary. Actually, it's more like a training assignment. The agent they want to put with me is pretty much fresh out of Quantico."

"Who is it?"

"Perotta," he said reluctantly. Brennan couldn't help but roll her eyes this time. Agent Payton Perotta seemed to be a reasonably nice person, but Brennan felt she was way too inexperienced to work with Booth.

"Is that really a good idea? She hasn't been trained on our evidence protocols. We have a nearly perfect record. What if she makes a mistake and compromises an investigation?"

"Bones, it's not like she'd be on her own. I'd still be in charge of the investigations. And as far as evidence protocol training, maybe we should think about training a squint to fill in for you at crime scenes."

"I've already talked to Dr. Edison about helping you at crime scenes when I go on maternity leave, but that's months away."

"Maybe he should start sooner than that. I really don't like you going to crime scenes while you're pregnant anyway. You could be exposed to all kinds of germs or chemicals. Sometimes they aren't secure enough-"

"Booth, stop. You're being way too overprotective."

"Well, get used to it, cause I'm not stopping."

"I've already promised to wait until agents have secured every crime scene, and you know that I always follow containment protocols for pathogens and hazardous chemicals. It's perfectly safe. Besides, what's the difference between analyzing remains in the field or doing it in the lab?"

"Don't get me started on the lab. If I had my way, you wouldn't be there either," he said wryly.

"Well, then I guess it's a good thing that the lab is _my_ domain. I know Angela's spying for you, and I know you got to the interns too. Ms. Wick is rather loquacious."

"More like nosy and annoying." Booth had the good grace to look abashed at her accusation, but he couldn't bring himself to regret his actions.

He had indeed spoken to the squints and Brennan's new interns to solicit their help in keeping Brennan safe and healthy. Angela had taken it upon herself to deliver lunch and well-timed snacks throughout the day, and she had promised to keep Booth in the loop on anything that might come up during the hours that he was away from the lab. Cam was doing her best to stay out of it altogether, and Hodgins was merely amused by Booth's behavior.

The 'squinterns' were helping when possible. Wendell was attentive, but not to the point of being annoying like Daisy. Fisher was full of unsolicited information that was typically delivered at awkward moments, and Arastoo seemed rather uncomfortable at the mention of anything related to pregnancy or childbirth. However, they all volunteered to work longer hours so that Brennan could leave the lab at what Booth had deemed to be a reasonable hour.

"I just think you're taking this too far," she said, trying to keep a reasonable tone. "I'm pregnant, not sick or disabled."

"Bones, if anything happened to you or our baby, it would kill me. And if it was something I could've prevented, I'd never forgive myself. I'll never stop trying to take care of my family, Bones. No matter how stubborn you are." He spoke the last words with a well-practiced charm smile, and Brennan decided to let the matter rest, at least for the time being. She smiled ruefully back at him.

As frustrating as his overprotective nature could be at times, she couldn't bring herself to wish it away entirely.

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Booth arrived home early from work several days later and was pleasantly surprised to see his wife's car in the garage. He walked into the house and immediately gave a shudder in response to the abnormally low setting of the air conditioner. The August heat had been making Brennan miserably hot, and although their home felt like the Arctic Circle to Booth, he suffered without complaint. While he slept with extra blankets, she needed none at all. In fact, the only part of her body that ever seemed cold were her feet, especially when they gravitated toward his legs at night. He insisted that she wear socks or slippers around the clock.

"Bones?" he called as he shrugged out of his suit jacket. His greeting was met with silence. Booth checked the upper level, but she was nowhere to be found. He began to worry as he methodically checked the other rooms, trying to imagine a logical reason that her car would be in the garage if she weren't at home. He was about to pick up the phone to call her cell when a flash of movement through the patio doors drew his eye to the backyard. Booth stepped outside to investigate, and his breath caught in his chest at the sight that greeted him.

His wife was swimming laps in their in-ground pool. Naked.

"Bones?" She stopped in mid-stroke and spun to look at him, her smile lighting up her face.

"Hi. I was overheated. I know the pool was originally intended for Parker, but I'm feeling rather grateful for it at the moment."

"Yeah, I can see that," he replied, swallowing thickly as he watched her breasts swaying in the water. Brennan's eyes flickered to the prominent bulge in his pants, and she smirked a little.

"You should join me."

Booth wasn't sure he'd ever removed his own clothing so quickly. His eyes darted around the fenced backyard in a natural response to being naked outdoors. He felt exposed, but he knew that no one could see them. It wasn't the first time they'd fooled around in the backyard.

Brennan swam to the shallow end and watched him descend the steps into the water. Their arms went around one another immediately, and she fused her lips with his. Their tongues danced, and Booth's hands glided downward over her wet skin, settling at the backs of her thighs. Brennan instinctively lifted her legs to wrap them around his waist, moaning in appreciation when she felt his arousal between her thighs.

"You're so beautiful, baby. Every perfect inch of you."

Brennan opened her mouth to respond, but he seized her lips again. They shifted against one another until their intimate parts were aligned, and he entered her slowly. She panted heavily as he filled her, inch by inch until he was buried entirely in her warmth. Booth gripped her ass firmly and thrust into her at a slow but steady pace. It was deep and intense, made even more so by the fact that their eyes were locked on one another.

The intensity built steadily until Brennan was almost desperate for release, and when at last she reached her climax, Booth smothered her cry of pleasure with another soul-searing kiss. He came forcefully within her, savoring the warmth and satisfaction of knowing that she was his.

"I agree," Booth said, breathing heavily as they came down from their respective highs. She arched an eyebrow in confusion, and he smiled back at her. "The pool was definitely a good investment."

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 **This may end up being the most I write about Perotta or the squinterns. I'm not rehashing episodes for this. Hope you liked it!**

 **Reviews make me happy!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Happy New Year! I wish you all a very wonderful 2017! Thanks for continuing to read and review!**

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Epilogue

Part 5

Booth held his wife tightly in his arms while she sniffled noisily against his shoulder. The case they'd just closed had been a tough one, made particularly difficult by Brennan's unexpected attachment to a dog named Ripley. Their investigation had uncovered an illegal dog-fighting ring, and Ripley's owner had commanded him to murder the victim. Unfortunately, this meant that Ripley had to be euthanized, and Brennan was heartbroken over the loss. She had decided to adopt the dog, only to have him taken from her unexpectedly.

"I didn't know you wanted a dog so much, Bones," Booth said softly as the walked away from Ripley's grave toward the SUV.

"I didn't before, but he was a very sweet dog. He was as much a victim as the man he attacked," she replied sadly.

"You know, we could still get a dog. We'd have to get someone to look after it in emergencies, but we could figure it out."

"No," Brennan shook her head. "I know I was being unrealistic. Our jobs our so unpredictable, and making sure a dog's needs are met would get complicated. We work such long hours, and it would be home alone all the time. That's not fair to an animal who needs affection."

"Yeah, you're probably right." Booth gave her a sad smile and squeezed her hand gently. She responded in kind, but a look of alarm suddenly flashed across her features.

"Booth, we're about to have a _baby_. We'll have to take care of him regardless of our schedules. If we can't handle a dog, how are we going to handle a child?" She was beginning to tear up a little again, and he knew that her hormones were overwhelming her.

"We'll manage," he assured her. "The baby will go to daycare at the Jeffersonian, so he'll be in the same building with you most of the time. And if anything ever happens when we're in the field, I'm sure his Aunt Angela will be more than willing to watch him for a while. Plus, your dad's decided to stay in town, and you know he'd be happy to help us out if we need it."

"I suppose you're right," she replied, relaxing a little. "It's not like we'd be able to take a dog to work with us."

"Exactly." Booth grinned and brought her hand to his lips. "Now… Diner for lunch?"

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Brennan gave a sigh of relief as she pulled her car into the garage. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been so thankful to come home. Not only had Angela taken it upon herself to make sure Brennan was equipped with a full maternity wardrobe, she'd also decreed that it was time to start shopping for the baby as well. As a result, Brennan's back seat was filled with bags of baby supplies, and Angela was scheduled to paint a mural in the baby's room the following weekend.

The pregnancy was going smoothly, though at six months along, Brennan was beginning to experience some back pain thanks to the added weight of her bump. It twinged predictably when she loaded her arms with a portion of the shopping bags and trudged into the house. Booth was in the kitchen cooking dinner, and his face brightened to see her walk through the door. His smile shifted to concern, however, when he saw how much she was carrying.

"Bones, why didn't you let me get it?" he fussed, moving forward to take the bags from her hands.

"There's more in the car. You can get those." She fell onto the couch and closed her eyes in appreciation for the relief to her back. Booth emptied the rest of the car in one trip and came to sit next to her.

"You hungry?"

"Yes. I picked up a few books for you. They're in the gray bag," she told him. He sifted through the shopping bags with a feeling of slight trepidation, and he wasn't at all surprised when he read the titles she'd purchased.

"Really, Bones?" he asked wryly. "Trying to educate me, huh?"

"Well, after our last conversation, I thought it might be prudent to let you read the information rather than argue with you about it."

Booth sighed and placed the books on the coffee table before heading back to the kitchen to plate their meals. When he returned to the living room, Brennan accepted her plate with a grateful smile.

"You know I could probably find books that support hospital birth too, right?" he smirked. Brennan rolled her eyes a little.

"Only one of them is about birth choices. The others are about actual parenting. And to be honest, I think we're better off reading something published by experts than researching online. I stumbled across a few public web forums, and the way the mothers treat those who disagree with them is downright appalling."

"Yeah, don't get pulled into all of that. I know there's a lot to think about, but surely we can figure out what's best for our kid on our own."

They'd been bickering over the birth plan for several weeks. Booth wanted their son delivered in a hospital by the obstetrician; Brennan was adamant about having a home birth and being attended by a midwife. She was determined to have the baby naturally, without the use of painkillers, but Booth was heartsick at the thought of seeing her in so much pain.

There was a lot more to childbirth than either of them had ever considered, and Booth felt rather grateful that he'd eluded such debates with Rebecca. Brennan had jumped into the research and was academically intrigued, but Booth was simply overwhelmed and more than a little intimidated. She'd been rambling on about waterbirth, the best time to cut the umbilical cord, cord blood banking, skin-to-skin contact, immediate breastfeeding, even placenta eating. For the most part, Booth was willing to go along with her decisions, though they both agreed that there was no way in hell she was eating the placenta. They also agreed to add a Cystic Fibrosis test to the array of newborn testing, in light of Hayley's diagnosis and the fact that the test wasn't required by most states.

There were even more decisions to be made after the baby was born. Attachment parenting, babywearing, breast or bottle feeding, cloth or disposable diapering, discipline in later years, potty training theories… Although Booth was familiar with caring for an infant, he hadn't gotten to weigh in on those decisions with Parker. He was determined to play a bigger role in this baby's birth, and the biggest point of contention was safety. He simply couldn't wrap his head around the idea of a home birth being safer than a hospital, and Brennan would be hard pressed to change his mind.

They traded arguments and theories as they finished their dinner, but eventually Booth called a halt to the discussion. They were both too stubborn to give up on what they wanted, and he knew that they wouldn't be reaching any conclusions that night. They made their way upstairs, and Brennan was lulled to sleep as he gently massaged her stiff muscles.

Booth loved her pregnant body. It was without a doubt the most satisfying sight he'd ever beheld, and if it were possible, he'd want her to be pregnant all the time. Brennan had been all too eager to point out that his predilection was a natural result of his alpha male personality, but Booth didn't care.

Whether or not he was being a cocky Neanderthal didn't change the facts. His wife was _hot_.

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"Since when does Sweets take my place interviewing suspects?" Brennan demanded, fuming at her husband. Leaving her in the lab to check out a lead on a case was one thing; letting Sweets tag along in her place was another.

"Since the guy we were checking out had mommy issues so obvious that even _I_ could work up the profile, Bones. Since you're seven months pregnant and still working your ridiculous hours, since you're exhausted all the time…"

"Pregnancy is _supposed_ to be exhausting, Booth."

"You could make it just a little easier by staying off your feet when possible."

"I know my limits."

"No, I really don't think you do. I had to pull you out of the lab at midnight the other day, Bones, and you went right back at seven the next morning."

"You're still being overprotective."

"I told you I wasn't going to stop."

They continued to bicker while Sweets watched them from his seat, his eyes darting back and forth between them. They were parked on opposite ends of his office couch, and, in typical fashion, they'd forgotten his presence entirely. Brennan's pregnancy was a benefit he hadn't been counting on when he'd asked permission to write a book about their partnership. Not only would he be able to cover the far-reaching effects of their marriage, but he could analyze the effects of the pregnancy as well. He could see both sides of the argument, but he did believe that Booth was going just a little overboard with his drive to see to his wife's every need.

"Agent Booth," he interrupted reluctantly. "Dr. Brennan… I think you both have valid points, as usual. Perhaps I can help you to reach some sort of compromise."

"No offense, Sweets, but this is a grown-up conversation," Booth grumbled. Sweets rolled his eyes at the insult.

"Look… You two have been arguing this same issue ever since you found out about the baby, right?" He paused as they nodded irritably. "Obviously the problem isn't just going to disappear, and the added stress isn't good for the baby."

Booth opened his mouth to argue but stopped short at the uncomfortable realization that Sweets was correct. Brennan crossed her arms above her baby bump and looked rather smug.

"Then what's the solution?" Booth asked impatiently.

"Compromise. For instance, Dr. Brennan could agree to keep her in-lab hours to that of a regular workday and to only go into the field when she's truly needed-"

"I'm _always_ needed," Brennan interrupted. "And our cases frequently involve investigating crime scenes well after business hours."

"And you've trained Clark on the protocols," Booth countered. "So… _compromise._ Clark handles the after-hours stuff, and Sweets pitches in more often for interrogations."

"That's a great idea," Sweets interjected. "And in return, Agent Booth could agree to tone down the nagging."

"I don't nag."

"Yes, you do," Brennan insisted. "It's always my diet, or my water intake, or my sleeping habits, or my prenatal vitamins…"

"Is it so bad to want to take care of my wife and my child?"

"Of course not," Brennan replied, her features softening. "But you're forgetting that I'm perfect capable of taking care of myself." She turned her body toward him, effectively pushing Sweets out of the conversation once more. "I love that you care so much, Booth. Our baby is so lucky to have you as a father. I don't want you to stop caring; I just need a little room to breathe."

Booth sighed at her pleading expression. He truly didn't want to argue any more about it, and he knew that, as Sweets had pointed out, the stress wasn't doing Brennan any favors.

"Okay," he relented. "Normal lab hours, _no exceptions_. Less time in the field wherever possible… And I'll back off on everything else."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I don't want to argue about it anymore, and it's not doing any good anyway. We've been back and forth about it for months. I'll trust your judgment, Bones. I just want you to listen to your body a little better, okay? I _know_ you were overly tired the other night, and so do you. Leaving the analysis till the next morning wouldn't have jeopardized the evidence."

Brennan averted her eyes and nodded ruefully. In this particular instance, at least, she had to admit that he had an accurate measure of her frame of mind. Her energy level had been lower than usual for the entire day, and it had irritated her. She had stubbornly ignored the back pain, foot pain, and persistent drowsiness, and she'd pushed her body too far. She hadn't even been alert enough to drive herself home.

"Okay," Brennan agreed. "I'll step back on field work until after the baby comes, and I'll do my best to leave the lab by five." They smiled at each other, and Booth scooted closer to her on the couch, leaning in for a brief kiss of gratitude.

"There, see?" Sweets said, his boyish grin stretching from ear to ear. "Compromise."

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The week following Brennan's birthday brought surprising changes in the lives of their friends. Angela's divorce was finally made official, but the end result wasn't at all what she or Hodgins had intended. Instead of resuming their wedding planning, they'd gotten into an argument that had resulted in the end of their relationship. Brennan sat on the couch in Angela's office, doing her best to console her friend as she wept.

"I don't even know what happened," Angela sniffed, dabbing her face with a tissue. "One minute we were fine, and then he started talking like he didn't trust me… I'm so confused. It doesn't feel real."

"Maybe you guys should talk a little more before making a permanent decision," Brennan suggested.

"I wanted to. I even called him after we left the diner, but he sent me straight to voicemail. He texted and said he needs some space." She paused to blow her nose, and Brennan sighed, uncertain how best to comfort her. "I love him… And I thought he loved me just as much, you know? I thought this was it, that this was our forever, that we were meant to be."

"Ange," Brennan began hesitantly. "You know I spent a lot of years believing love didn't exist at all. It took the right person coming into my life at the right time to change my mind. I think it will happen that way for you too. Maybe Hodgins is the right person at the wrong time, or the wrong person at the right time… Or maybe it's all wrong," she shrugged with an apologetic smile. "Maybe you need to just… live your life for a while and see what happens."

Angela sniffled again and nodded in acceptance of her friend's wisdom. She was still confused as to how her relationship had ended so abruptly, but Brennan's words had resonated with her. Whether or not she and Hodgins were meant to be together in the long run, it was clear that it wouldn't happen at this point in time.

"Thanks, Bren." Angela gave her a watery smile. "You're absolutely right. If I'm supposed to be with Hodgins, then it will happen eventually. Until then, I'm just going to live my life."

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Brennan relayed the conversation with Angela to Booth when she arrived home that evening, and several days later, Booth found himself in a similar situation with Hodgins. While Angela was doing her best to shake it off and carry on, Hodgins was spending rather a lot of time at the Founding Fathers. The bartender called Booth late one evening to come remove a very inebriated entomologist from the premises, and Booth dutifully gave Hodgins a ride home.

"Don't you dare throw up in here, man." Booth's warning was met with a groan and some mumbling. "What was that?"

"I said I'm an idiot."

"Well, considering how much you drank, I'd say that much is pretty obvious."

"No," Hodgins moaned. "I mean Angie. She's _gone_. I said one stupid thing, and then she said a stupid thing back, and then…" He shook his head forlornly, looking down at his empty hands as though the woman he'd been discussing had suddenly disappeared from their grasp. Booth winced and patted him awkwardly on the shoulder.

"Look, Hodgins… Maybe it just wasn't meant to be."

"No," he insisted, his voice a little louder than necessary. "I know she was the one. I _know_ it. I had her, and then… it all just fell apart."

"Well… If you're sure, then don't give up." Hodgins looked at him quizzically, and Booth nodded in encouragement as he continued. "If Angela is the one, then it'll happen."

"You really think so?"

"Sure." Booth paused, remembering the advice his wife had given Angela. "But you've got to be patient. Play it cool for now. Work on having a friendship with her again, and bide your time. Even if she starts dating someone else. If it's meant to be, it'll work out."

"Thanks, man," Hodgins replied, his eyes bleary with intoxication.

"Don't mention it. You should lay off the liquor though, alright? And please, _please_ don't puke in my car. "

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 **Sort of a lot going on in this one. Next time, we'll have Jared in town for some drama, and of course Brennan will be in the home stretch of her pregnancy. We're almost done!**

 **Review and have a wonderful day!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hello, my lovelies! Thank you for the reviews and feedback! It is so very appreciated. This one is a bit longer, but I doubt anyone will mind. ;)**

 **Enjoy!**

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Epilogue

Part 6

Brennan was miserably uncomfortable. She was constantly waddling to the bathroom on her swollen feet, nearly every part of her body ached at some point throughout the day, and she was completely exhausted by dinnertime. She'd kept her promise about cutting down on her lab hours, though her crime scene work had continued until very recently.

She and Booth had been called to the scene of a car fire in Bethesda just before Halloween, and although the fire department had given the all-clear, a secondary explosion had injured one of the FBI techs. The shock wave had thrown Brennan from her already dubious balance. Neither she nor the baby had been injured, but Booth had refused to allow her in the field after that point. To his mild surprise, Brennan hadn't argued about it. The incident had frightened her more than she was willing to admit. Dr. Edison now handled all crime scene forensics, and Brennan stayed in the lab.

Agent Perotta had been involved in a couple of cases, and thus far, Brennan's reservations had turned out to be unfounded. She was inexperienced, but she was also a fast learner and seemed to be more intelligent than most of the agents Brennan had worked with in the past. On her rare visits to the lab, Perotta seemed to have little or no trouble following along with the 'squint talk,' which in and of itself earned her some degree of respect from everyone on the team.

A few days before Booth's birthday, their morning session with Sweets was interrupted by an unexpected call from Jared. Brennan's lifted a brow in interest as she listened to her husband's side of the conversation. From what she could gather, Jared was in town and wanted to see his brother. Their reunion would be delayed a little due to a crime scene call, but it seemed that Brennan might finally get to meet her brother-in-law.

"So Jared's in DC?" she asked Booth once they were alone in the SUV. He intended to drop her off at the lab and then head to the crime scene.

"Yeah, he said he got a new job here." His tone was disbelieving, and Brennan felt the same. She and Booth had been together for nearly four years, and Jared had been absent for even longer.

"He's moving here then?"

"Apparently."

"Are you upset about it?" Brennan could read the tension on his face well enough, but she was confused as to what exactly had put it there. "I would think you'd be happy to see him again after so long."

"I am, I just…" he shrugged uncomfortably. "I never know what to expect from him. He bounces from one thing to the next so quickly, whether it's work or women, you know? He only thinks about himself, and he doesn't care who gets their feelings hurt along the way."

It was nothing Brennan hadn't heard before. She knew that the last time Booth had spoken to his brother, they'd argued about his lack of responsibility. Although the Army had helped Booth to mature in many ways, the Navy hadn't done the same for Jared. Brennan reached over to place a soothing hand on his thigh.

"You haven't seen him in a long time, Booth. Maybe he's changed."

"Maybe," he relented, sounding hopeful against his better judgment. He moved a hand from the steering wheel to bring Brennan's fingers to his lips. "I'll give him the benefit of the doubt, okay?"

They shared a smile and a goodbye kiss before she climbed carefully out of the vehicle, and Booth waited until her ungainly form had disappeared through the doors before pulling away. The crime scene was processed fairly quickly, and once the body was on its way to the lab, Booth headed to the diner to meet Jared.

"Hey, man!" Jared greeted him cheerfully. They exchanged a manly hug, and Booth noted that his brother was in his dress uniform. They sized one another up as they took adjacent seats at the long counter. "You got old, bro."

"Thanks," Booth muttered, rolling his eyes. "You're not exactly the picture of youth yourself."

"Whatever, Seeley" he scoffed. "I've still got my boyish charm." They each ordered a cup of coffee and thanked the waitress.

"So… I see you got promoted," Booth said, gesturing to the sleeves of Jared's uniform that identified him as a Lieutenant Commander in the United States Navy.

"Yup. Head of Strategic Plans and Policy at the Pentagon. I just got an apartment, but I'm driving a rental until I can buy a car." He launched into a description of his new place, and Booth listened patiently.

Jared did seem to have changed over the last five years, but some things were still the same. His love for talking about himself, for instance, was still alive and well. He shared a few war stories and prattled on about how he'd come into his new job, taking special care to present himself in the best possible light. In the fifteen minutes it took for them to drain their coffee cups, Jared never once asked about Booth's life or family.

"Hey, listen Jared. I'd love to stay and chat longer, but I really need to get back to work. I just came from a crime scene, and I'm sure the body's at the lab by now. I need to touch base with Bones and Cam."

"Oh yeah, Pops said you work with your wife. Said she's a looker too," Jared grinned.

"You talked to Pops?" Booth asked, ignoring the devious smirk on his brother's face as well as his commentary.

"Yeah, but not in a while. He doesn't know I'm moving here yet." He shrugged, then frowned as another part of Booth's earlier statement caught up with him. "Wait, did you say _Cam_? Camille works with you too?"

"Yeah."

"Damn, Seel," Jared chuckled. "How exactly does _that_ work? Your wife and your ex-girlfriend working together, I mean. That's gotta be awkward. Does Temperance know about her?"

"Of course she does. And Cam was never my girlfriend; we were just…"

"Yeah, I know," he snorted, waving him off. "Hey, is she still single? I've got a party at the White House tonight, and I need a date."

"Yeah, you should ask her. I can give you her number."

"No, I'll just come with you and ask her in person," Jared insisted quickly. "That way I can meet Temperance too."

Booth nodded reluctantly and gave Jared directions to the lab. They entered the building together, and he could tell that Jared was impressed by the unassuming grandeur of the Jeffersonian as they made their way to the lab. As Booth had predicted, the remains had been delivered and were now being analyzed on the platform. His wife stood at the exam table, discussing ballistics with Cam.

"Camille," Jared greeted her, announcing his presence loudly as Booth swiped his card for entrance to the platform.

"Jarhead! It's really you!" Cam's face lit up as she moved to hug him. Jared shook his head but smiled as he corrected the misnomer. His interest was quickly diverted to Brennan, however, and his eyebrows lifted in surprised appreciation.

He'd never so much as seen a picture of his brother's wife, but as he looked at her, he understood exactly what his grandfather had meant with his compliments to her appearance. They hadn't done her justice. Of course, Hank had praised far more than merely her appearance. According to him, Brennan was practically a saint, and Jared had privately assumed that Hank's high opinion of her had simply been an extension of his high opinion of Booth.

His brother was making introductions, but Jared was only half-listening as he shook Brennan's hand, holding it for a little longer than necessary. He'd forgotten that she was pregnant, though he did belatedly recall hearing that news over the summer. Jared's eyes drifted involuntarily downward, and it wasn't until he heard a growl emanating from his brother's chest that he realized he was staring at his sister-in-law's rather impressive décolletage. When his gaze returned to her face, she was frowning in embarrassment.

"It's so good to finally meet you," Jared told her, his tone mildly apologetic. Brennan looked slightly mollified as she returned the sentiment. "And congratulations," he added, nodding to her protruding stomach.

Booth was still gritting his teeth irritably. Even at eight months pregnant, his wife was gorgeous and radiant. She earned plenty of second glances from strangers, but he'd hoped that his own brother would have a little more decorum. He felt slightly better as he watched Jared shrink under a well-practiced stare-down.

After the usual polite questions regarding the new baby, Jared made plans with Cam for the party that evening and took his leave. Brennan gestured for Booth to follow her to her office.

"Are you alright? You look irritated," she observed.

"I'm fine, Bones. He seems to have his shit together, at least for now. I'm just…"

"Being an alpha male?" Brennan smirked. Booth smiled guiltily. "You know, he was probably just looking at my distended abdomen. Everyone does. It's enormous." She pouted a little, and Booth gathered her in his arms.

"No, it's not, baby. You're beautiful. And he most _definitely_ was staring at your breasts, not your stomach." He looked down and was greeted not only by her grateful smile, but also by a very pleasant view of her cleavage. "I just don't like other men looking at you like that. Especially my brother."

Brennan laughed warmly and kissed him. She still felt he was being a bit silly, but she let it go. She was accustomed to that kind of attention from men, as well as the occasional woman. However, when Booth had come into her life, she'd stopped noticing the looks and flirting. Of course, now those looks and glances seemed to hone in on her pregnant belly, but Brennan's frame of mind hadn't changed. The only opinion that mattered to her was Booth's.

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As the couple got ready for bed that evening, Booth wondered idly how Cam was faring on the arm of his brother at a White House party. He was inwardly relieved that Jared had asked Cam as opposed to some random girl he picked up in a bar. Jared had always been more than a little cavalier in his love life, and Booth knew that Cam regarded him as little brother. At least there would be no romantic entanglement to complicate Jared's life for the time being. In the past, it was common for a breakup to lead to yet another change of employment and location, and Booth felt that Jared would do better in his professional life if he stopped allowing his personal one to interfere. When Booth had voiced the opinion to his wife, she'd quirked a brow at him sardonically.

"What? Does that make me a hypocrite?" Booth asked, fully aware that he himself had mixed business with pleasure some time ago.

"No," she shrugged. "What works for one doesn't necessarily work for another. You've proven your ability to handle both sides of your life exceptionally well, even when the two have been intertwined. But hearing you worry so much over your brother's well-being is a novelty. You've rarely had anything kind to say about him."

"I love my brother, Bones. I just don't always like him. Maybe you were right though… Maybe this time he'll surprise me."

When he finished brushing his teeth, he caught sight of Brennan's expression in the long mirror that hung above the counter. She wasn't looking at him, but the expression on her face made him pause curiously. She was looking somewhat dejectedly downward at the reflection of her pregnant body, and his brow furrowed in concern.

"What's wrong, baby?" he whispered into her ear as he wrapped his arms around her, cradling their son tenderly. She expelled a heavy sigh and met his gaze in the mirror.

"I love carrying our child," Brennan said quietly. "Feeling him move inside of me, feeling even more connected to you… But I feel so at odds with my own body sometimes. I'm uncomfortable and awkward, sore and swollen. I can't help but feel unattractive, and-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," he interrupted her. "Uncomfortable, I understand, but _unattractive?_ How can you think that?"

"Logically, I know that my face still looks the same, and I've honestly never put much stock in physical appearance anyway. But now I'm realizing that perhaps I was taking it for granted. I just don't feel like _me_ right now. I've even become a bit absent-minded, and I've never felt like that. Angela called it 'baby brain,'" she explained, rolling her eyes at the colloquial term. Booth's mouth tightened in disapproval of her warped self-image, but he knew from the pregnancy books that her feelings were completely normal. He bent to press his lips to the side of her neck before looking back at her in the mirror.

"Can I tell you what _I_ see?" When she nodded, he lifted her pajama shirt from her body and dropped it to the floor. "It's hard to say what part I like best… Your skin has always been beautiful, but it's absolutely breathtaking now. It really does seem almost luminous, especially right now as I see it in contrast to mine. I wouldn't have thought it possible, but your hair is actually softer, shiner. Your breasts have gotten fuller, heavier. I've always loved the feel of them in my hands, but knowing that they'll be nursing our baby soon makes the extra volume even more appealing."

"You do know that my breasts will probably return to normal size eventually," she smiled, relishing the feeling of warmth his words had given her.

"And they'll still be perfect, whether they do or not," Booth replied. "But as magnificent as they are, they're not my favorite part…My _favorite_ part is here," he murmured, his hands moving back to her rounded belly. "Right here. Do you remember when we talked about two people sharing the same physical space at the same time?"

"Breaking the laws of physics," Brennan nodded.

"We've really accomplished it this time, and this is the proof. He is one part you and one part me." They both closed their eyes and swayed on the spot, savoring the connection between their two souls.

"Thank you, Booth," she whispered.

"Any time. I don't want ever want you to doubt yourself, especially about this. I love you, Bones." She turned in his arms and melted into his chest, pressing her lips to his.

"I love you too.

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By the following evening, Booth's reluctant tolerance of his brother had vanished entirely. His dinner with Brennan had been interrupted by a text from Jared saying that he needed Booth's help. His wife had shooed him out the door and across town to the scene of a single-vehicle accident. Jared had apparently driven his rental car into the post of a large street lamp. A police officer was already on the scene, so Booth assumed at first glance that his brother merely needed a ride to his apartment.

However, one close look at Jared's face was enough to make it clear to Booth that his brother's claim of having fallen asleep at the wheel was a complete fabrication. The glazed scowl on Jared's face mirrored the one they'd both seen on their father's many years ago. Booth didn't need anyone to tell him how a DUI would affect his brother's military career, especially considering the promotion he'd just been granted.

It wasn't the first time Jared had landed himself in this kind of mess, but the previous incidents had been during his teenage years. Booth had known that Jared had a certain fondness for alcohol as a young adult, but he'd hoped that Jared might have grown out of it in the five years since he'd last seen him.

To make matters worse, the policeman on the scene was a man who'd been in Booth's office asking for a favor earlier that very day. Booth had turned him down for the sake of the FBI's public image, and the cop was now determined to make him regret that decision. Unless Booth was willing to let Jared be charged with a DUI, he would have to give the man something of even greater value.

Booth's anger flared inwardly, but he made the deal with only a moment's hesitation. He surrendered recognition for what could've been a defining case in his own career in order to save that of his wayward brother. Jared was let off with a warning, and he passed out in Booth's SUV on the way to his apartment. As Booth hauled Jared through the door and to the couch, his irritation grew steadily, and he vowed that this would be the last time he played the hero for his brother.

Brennan was stunned when Booth explained what had happened. On the one hand, his actions suited his protective instincts perfectly. However, Brennan was in full agreement that Jared should be left to his own devices from now on. He was more than old enough to take responsibility for his actions, and she hated that her husband had sacrificed something important to him for such an unworthy cause. She didn't admonish Booth for his actions, however. It was clear that he was mentally and physically exhausted.

It wasn't until the next day that Brennan got the opportunity to voice her opinion, but Booth wasn't the one on the receiving end of it. She'd had a craving for pub food, so she and Angela went to the Founding Fathers for lunch. Brennan was surprised and appalled to see her brother-in-law sitting on the far end of the bar, nursing a glass of what appeared to be scotch. She asked Angela to wait for her in a booth before making her way over to Jared.

"You're drinking at noon on a weekday? Why aren't you at that new job you clearly value so highly?" she asked disgustedly. His bleary eyes told her that he was either on his third or fourth glass, or else he was still intoxicated from the previous night.

"Well, hello to you too, Temperance," Jared said wryly. "I don't start work until next week, and it's just one drink. 'Hair of the dog' and all that."

"I don't know what that means."

"Nevermind," he muttered. "Seeley send you here to yell at me or something? He didn't used to have a problem doing that himself, you know. He's always been very… capable. Even if he refuses to leave his comfort zone."

"What the hell are you talking about?" she scowled.

"It's like he's afraid of success. I'm not saying it's a bad thing, necessarily," Jared slurred. "Maybe that's what made him a good sniper. He doesn't like to be visible above the ridgeline, so he keeps his head low… Instinct. Me, on the other hand… I can't help but run that ridge." His expression shifted to one of arrogance, and Brennan felt her temper rising.

"You mean like driving drunk straight into a lamppost? You're right. You're the picture of success," she sneered. Hormones, family ties, and public places be damned; she wasn't about to let this man demean her husband.

"I fell asleep at the wheel."

"Don't patronize me. And don't underestimate your brother. He's a better soldier, a better brother, and a better _person_ than you'll ever be until you learn to take responsibility for your actions." Jared was glaring at her, but she saw a glimmer of pain in his eyes. "But you know that already, don't you? You resent him for it, so you put him down to elevate yourself. Like a typical bully."

"Guess it's no surprise that you think he's a saint like everyone else," he said bitterly. "You know, I've been doing just fine on my own for five years."

"No, you haven't," Brennan contradicted. "You have a drinking problem. You're genetically predisposed to addictive tendencies, which means you need to be careful with alcohol or any other kind of addictive substance. You saw what it did to your father. How can you possibly want that life for yourself?" Jared looked away from her, his expression that of a sulking child. "What if you'd killed someone last night? What if you'd hit a pedestrian instead of a street lamp? There are some things that Booth could never bail you out of, and taking risks like that is just _stupid_ , not to mention completely irresponsible." Brennan attempted to reign in her anger and spun around to return to Angela.

"You've got the mom guilt trip thing down, by the way," Jared grumbled, still avoiding eye contact. Brennan moved faster than her pregnant belly should have allowed, catching him completely off guard as she shoved him off of his barstool. He looked up at her in astonishment.

"Grow up," she spat. "And _shut up_. Demeaning your brother only makes _you_ look small. I won't stand for it, and Booth deserves better." She strode away without a second glance, and when she reached the booth, Angela was regarding her with a mixture of incredulity and glee.

"Wow, Sweetie. What was _that?_ "

"Nothing," Brennan sighed, feeling relief at the break in tension. "Let's order. I'm hungry."

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Brennan's next visit to the Founding Fathers was a much more pleasant one. The case had been closed, and the squints were holding a small party to celebrate Booth's birthday. Booth wasn't generally fond of parties in his honor, but he was touched that so many of their friends thought highly enough of him to make such a gesture. Amid the toasts and laughter, he felt the last remnants of his irritation with Jared fade. In spite of his big brother instincts, Booth had decided to stick with his decision to let Jared either sink or swim when it came to his behavior. He curled an arm around his wife's shoulders, and she smiled at him over her water glass.

"Thanks for this, Bones. I know it was your idea."

"You're welcome. I have a more private celebration planned for later," she winked. Booth grinned salaciously and kissed her temple.

"Seeley?"

Booth stiffened at the unexpected sound of his brother's voice and turned to face him, raising his eyebrows in response. Jared maintained somewhat fleeting eye contact with his brother but didn't look at Brennan at all. She kept her expression neutral, but she couldn't help but note the rocks glass in his left hand.

"What?"

"Can I talk to you for a moment?" Booth raised his hand to convey that there was no time like the present, and Jared shifted uncomfortably. "I just wanted to apologize for… my behavior. I was an ass, and I took advantage of you. You didn't have to bail me out, but you did. And I appreciate it, but… I won't ask you to do it again."

"I don't mind helping you from time to time, Jared, but you never seem to learn from your mistakes. It's like I've been enabling you, in more ways than one. I can't do that anymore," Booth replied solemnly. He was more than a little shocked at the change in Jared's attitude, but he didn't show it.

"I understand," Jared nodded, finally directing his gaze to his sister-in-law. "I'm sorry I missed the wedding too, Seeley. You married a great girl, and I'm happy for you. You guys are going to be wonderful parents." They murmured their thanks, and Jared sighed as he swept a hand across the back of his neck. "Maybe… Maybe we can get together for Thanksgiving or Christmas? I'd like to spend some time with everyone."

"Pops would like that," Booth agreed. "Parker too."

"Parker probably doesn't even remember me," Jared mumbled, shamefaced. Neither Booth nor Brennan contradicted his statement.

"Well, then it's a good time to get reacquainted," Booth said amicably. "Plus, the baby should be here by Christmas."

"He'd better be," Brennan grumbled, earning a smile from both men.

They parted on friendly terms when Booth insisted to the group that he wanted to get his wife home for the night. He made Cam promise to stay behind with Jared and either put him into a cab or drive him home herself. She agreed and told him not to worry, wishing him a happy birthday as she waved him out the door.

"I don't know what's gotten into Jared, but I hope it sticks," Booth said as they drove home. Brennan smiled knowingly. "I mean, I can't remember the last time Jared apologized to me for _anything_ , much less admitted that he was wrong about something."

"I'm glad he seems to be coming around. I hope it continues too." She grinned when he looked away from the road and over at her, laughing a little when he glanced back and forth a few times.

"You know something," he deduced.

"I had a little chat with him yesterday. Angela and I had lunch at the Founding Fathers, and he was there. Drinking again."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"There wasn't time," she shrugged. "You worked late on the case last night."

"Okay, so… What did you say?"

"I was simply very straightforward with him and offered some good advice."

"And what was that?" Booth smirked.

"I told him to grow up and shut up." Booth's laughter filled the small space, and the sound sent a spark of warmth to Brennan's chest. "I also might've… pushed him off a barstool."

"You _pushed_ him?" he laughed. "Damn, I wish I'd been there to see that." When his chuckling subsided, he shook his head in bemusement, feeling more than a little proud of her nerve. "Two things…"

"Yes?"

"One… No more bar fights for my pregnant wife, please." She laughed and nodded in agreement. His voice softened as he continued, "And two… Thank you. Really."

Brennan smiled affectionately at her husband and squeezed his hand.

"You're very welcome."

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 **Hope you liked it. :) Next update will be the end!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Well, folks, this is the end of the road! My creative process started about ten months ago with my first ever fanfiction, and it has gone so much farther than I ever expected! Writing and sharing this series has been a wonderful experience, and I'm so very grateful for all of your wonderful feedback. Whether it was reviews, PMs, or tweets, you guys kept me motivated. I truly hope you enjoy these final scenes. They were very fulfilling to write.**

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Epilogue

Part 7

Booth gazed down at his wife with a soft expression. For the past few weeks, she hadn't been able to sleep for more than a few hours at a time. Whether it was back pain, hip pain, or heartburn, there was always something making her too uncomfortable to really rest. She'd taken to sleeping in an almost completely upright position in an effort to cope with the heartburn, and this wasn't the first time he'd woken to discover that she'd abandoned their bed for the recliner in the living room. Booth was glad that her pregnancy would be over soon. As much as he loved seeing her carrying his child, he hated to see her in pain.

He took the lightweight throw blanket from the back of the loveseat and stretched it gently over her, brushing his lips across her forehead before settling on the couch. Booth knew that his back would be aching the next morning, but he wanted to be near her. Sleeping in their bed alone simply felt wrong.

Brennan woke earlier than usual the next morning and took a moment to get her bearings. She'd momentarily forgotten her relocation to the living room, and she glanced at the couch reflexively, unsurprised to see her husband still asleep there. She smiled and shook her head ruefully, hauling herself to her feet as carefully as possible. The shift in her center of gravity had brought about an unwelcome clumsiness that had landed her on her backside more than once.

A quick glance at the clock told her that she'd once again woken far earlier than necessary, so she decided to make a decent breakfast for them after getting ready for work. Booth was just beginning to stir when Brennan returned downstairs, and he opened his eyes to see her perched gingerly on the coffee table with two ibuprofen and a glass of water in her hands. She lifted her eyebrows as if daring him to argue with her, but he merely smiled in thanks and took the pills.

"I wish you'd stop doing that," she said blandly.

"I want to be nearby in case you need anything," Booth shrugged, flinching a little at the twinge of pain caused by the unconscious movement.

"It's silly for both of us to be in pain, Booth. And it looks like I'll be moving around faster than you today."

"It's worth it. I hate sleeping without you."

"Maybe we should move the recliner to the bedroom," Brennan mused, kissing him good morning before standing to return to the kitchen.

"That's a great idea, Bones. I'll do that tonight. Parker will be here, so I'll need to stay upstairs anyway."

While Booth got showered and dressed for work, Brennan threw a few things together for breakfast. The end of her morning sickness had also been the end of her habit of skipping the morning meal. By the time Booth came back downstairs, she'd made scrambled eggs with cheese, oatmeal, and toast, and he pouted inwardly for a brief moment over the loss of his beloved bacon. He hoped that her aversion to the smell would end with her pregnancy.

They carpooled to work each day now that Brennan was too big to fit comfortably behind the wheel of her car, and Booth walked her all the way to the lab most mornings. This morning, however, he had an early meeting scheduled, so they said their goodbyes in the SUV.

"Call me if you need anything, okay?" he told her, his eyes moving anxiously to her stomach and back to her face. "I'll bring lunch around noon."

"Okay," she smiled placatingly. They spent a few minutes kissing goodbye before she finally managed to extract herself from the vehicle, and Booth waited until she'd disappeared from sight before driving away.

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Brennan glanced at the clock display on her computer monitor and scribbled a number nine on the notepad next to her. She was fairly certain that she was merely experiencing Braxton-Hicks contractions, but since she was thirty-seven weeks pregnant, she knew that true labor could begin at any time. She'd been having similar pains for a few weeks, but they'd been extremely sporadic. The contractions she felt now were at irregular intervals, but the pattern was more consistent than it had been so far.

Booth would be bringing lunch in another half hour, so she decided to wait it out before telling anyone. She kept to her office so that she could more easily track each interval, and by the time Booth strolled in with their Wong Foos take-out, the shortest interval was around eight minutes. They settled on her couch and began to swap cardboard containers in the synchronized way they'd perfected over the years.

"So… I don't want to alarm you…" She kept her voice even, but Booth still looked up from his mee krob with anxious eyes. "...But I've been having some irregular contractions this morning, and-"

" _Contractions?"_ His food was forgotten completely, and his hands moved instinctively to her swollen belly. Brennan hurried to reassure him.

"It's completely normal, Booth. There's no need to panic. I've been tracking them, and it's nothing to worry about right now."

"When did they start?"

"A few hours ago, but-"

"Bones, why didn't you call me?! Come on, we should go to the hospital and get you checked out. Do you have your bag? We should call the doctor…"

Brennan sighed and watched him repack their lunch into the plastic bag. She'd eventually relented on the hospital vs home birth debate, but she was beginning to regret it now. They had compromised by choosing a hospital that allowed mothers more freedom to decide how they labored and gave birth. When the time came, she wouldn't be confined to a bed, laboring in a counterproductive horizontal position. Unless there were complications, she would be permitted to move around as her body needed and even labor in a tub of water if she chose. Brennan knew that she might still end up needing to advocate for her own preferences, but at the moment, she was more worried about Booth. His take-charge personality would only work if they were on the same page.

"Let's just call the doctor, Booth," she said reasonably, certain that they would be told to stay away from the hospital for quite a while yet. She knew that he would take that instruction better if it came from a medical professional. "If she tells us to go to the hospital, then we will, okay? Let's just stay calm."

"Okay," he nodded, heaving a sigh. His hands were shaking as he hit the speed dial he'd programmed for her obstetrician, and Brennan rubbed a soothing hand over his back.

Unfortunately for Brennan, the lunch hour phone prompt at her doctor's office directed Booth to either leave a message or be connected to the emergency service. The emergency operator advised them to play it safe and head to labor and delivery. Brennan sighed dejectedly and allowed her husband to buckle her into the SUV.

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As Brennan expected, she was experiencing Braxton-Hicks contractions as opposed to actual labor, and they were sent home from the hospital after a few hours of monitoring. Under normal circumstances, Booth would've been more disappointed that the baby wouldn't be coming that day, but instead he was gloating a little. He'd succeeded in sweet-talking the obstetrician into supporting his side of the when-to-stop-working argument. Brennan had dug her heels in about working right up to forty weeks, but she'd now been effectively overruled by both her husband and her doctor. She was already two centimeters dilated and fifty percent effaced; her maternity leave would start that very day.

"Thank God," Booth said, his relief obvious. "I was afraid you might actually end up giving birth in the lab."

"At least it would be a sterile environment," Brennan replied, only half-joking.

"Yeah, all the dead bodies are completely sanitary." He rolled his eyes with a grimace and said another silent prayer of thanks that the doctor had been on his side.

Over the next two weeks, Brennan spent her time satisfying her nesting instincts, telecommuting with the lab, and trying to write. She fortunately hadn't struggled with writer's block very often, but she was having a difficult time putting her ideas into words. Brennan eventually gave it up as a lost cause, knowing that she did her best work when the creativity flowed naturally. Booth was still working at the Hoover until five every evening, but he was handing off the majority of the cases to other agents who were in turn consulting with Dr. Edison. The system they'd arranged seemed to be working, and Brennan felt slightly less guilty for abandoning her work.

Unfortunately, the predictable result of so much free time was maddening boredom. She had cleaned every inch of their home, packed and repacked her hospital bag twice, and rearranged the nursery. Booth hadn't been at all pleased to come home and find her moving furniture by herself. Brennan spent one particularly cold December morning visiting Zack, and she was pleased to see that he had settled into a comfortable routine at the facility. The spark was still absent from his eyes, but he didn't seem as depressed as he'd been during those first few months in his new home.

Brennan returned home and ate a quick lunch before deciding to reorganize the baby's clothes and belongings for a third time. It was at least an hour before she realized that the pain of her sporadic 'practice contractions' had now spread to her lower back as well. The tightening of her uterus was more intense than it had been thus far, and she paused in the act of folding a tiny sleeper. Brennan pressed a hand to her bump and felt the distinct difference beneath her skin. The softness was gone, replaced by what felt like concrete over the lower half of her abdomen. She abandoned her menial task and moved to the master bedroom, taking note of the time on the alarm clock when the pain subsided. It was six minutes before she felt another contraction, and it was just as intense as the preceding one. She paced the bedroom floor as she weighed her options.

Brennan knew that it wasn't necessary to go to the hospital until the contractions were three or four minutes apart and about a minute in duration. Her first instinct was to call Booth, but his overzealous reaction to the false labor incident made her hesitate. She knew that this process could potentially take a very long time, especially as it was her first pregnancy, and she wanted to labor at home for as long as possible. Brennan was absolutely certain that one call to Booth would have him panicking and rushing her to the hospital again.

She decided to wait it out for a little while and track her contractions. _He'll be home in just a few hours anyway,_ she reasoned. Brennan puttered around the house, pacing through her contractions and rechecking the hospital bags. She showered and ate a light snack, knowing that it would be a while before she got the opportunity to do so again once they got to the hospital. Brennan's contractions got progressively stronger and began to affect the entire uterus, but they were still roughly five minutes apart. When it became more difficult to breathe through the pain, she decided it was time to call her husband.

"Booth," he answered predictably. She could hear the sound of shuffling papers in the background.

"You need to come home," Brennan said, her voice tight with restraint.

"I'm leaving the office now, baby. Are you okay?" The shuffling stopped.

"Yes, but we need to go to the hospital. Maybe I can… meet you there." The last words came out as a grunt as her pain intensified.

"Whoa, Bones. Breathe, okay?" he coached, fumbling his phone slightly as he sprinted for the elevator. "I'll be right there, just hang on. How far apart are the contractions now?"

"About five minutes. I know we're supposed to wait longer, but by the time you get here…"

"No, you're right. It's time to go. I'll be there as quickly as possible. Do you want me to stay on the phone with you?"

"No, you need to focus on driving," she declined, knowing that he would be racing through traffic with the lights and siren on. The last thing they needed right now was for him to have an accident. "I have everything ready to go. Just get here."

"Okay, Bones. You're doing great, baby. I love you so much."

"I love you too," she sighed, relieved as the contraction passed. "See you soon."

Brennan felt better knowing that Booth was on his way, but her reassurance faded quickly when the next contraction came with moisture between her legs. It wasn't the gushing sensation often associated with the breaking of the amniotic sack, but more of a trickle. If she didn't know better, she would've thought she'd lost control of her bladder. Brennan stood rooted in place, slightly shocked by the sudden discomfort. When she realized the mess she was making, she paced stiffly to the master bathroom and tried to clean herself up.

There was no sense in calling Booth again. He was on his way, and if he drove any faster, it would be dangerous. Three contractions later, Brennan was desperate for some kind of pain relief. She filled the tub with warm water and eased herself into it carefully. Her body's natural buoyancy relieved some of the pressure on her back, and the next few contractions were more manageable. Unfortunately, they also accelerated in frequency and duration after her water broke, and she knew instinctively that going to the hospital would no longer be an option. In her haste to find relief, she had left her cell phone on the bathroom counter.

 _Damn,_ she cursed inwardly through another crippling pain. Brennan knew she'd misjudged her body by assuming she would have more time. For most women, first-time labor took the better part of twenty-four hours from start to finish. She now felt foolish for having taken that statistic for granted.

"Bones?!" Booth's voice echoed from downstairs and a door slammed shut.

"Up here!" Brennan called back. She heard his thundering footsteps as he took the stairs two at a time.

"What are you doing in the tub? We need to _go!_ " He didn't realize he was shouting until Brennan raised her own voice to be heard over his.

"Booth! Calm down. There's no time for the hospital-"

" _What?!_ No, come on, Bones. We can make it! We just have to hurry." Booth felt his already rapid heart rate skyrocket, and his hands trembled as he knelt next to the tub. Brennan winced in pain as another contraction swelled, and Booth had never felt so helpless.

"I need you to calm down and _listen_ ," she said in a strained voice. "I need you to get some towels, a pair of scissors, something to clamp or tie off the cord, and something to suction."

"Are you serious?!" His panic was mounting, but he forced his breathing into a more regular pattern.

"Yes. You can do this. Everything will be fine." It felt slightly odd to be coaching her husband when she was the one in labor, but Brennan needed him to focus. "After you get everything together, call for an ambulance."

"Okay," Booth nodded, reining himself in. "You're doing great, baby. We're gonna be okay." His hands framed her face, and he pressed his lips to her dampened forehead. "I'll be right back."

Booth called the doctor as well as the emergency service while he raced through the house to gather the items Brennan had requested. They didn't have a clamp, but he managed to find a piece of ribbon that should work well enough. He pulled a rubber bulb syringe from the diaper bag as well as a few receiving blankets, adding them to the bundle of items in his arms before running back into the bathroom. Brennan was much the same as he'd left her, but she had drained the tub and seemed to be having more trouble breathing through the pain.

"Ambulance is on its way, and I had the doctor paged. She'll probably be calling back soon. How are we doing?" As he spoke, he placed everything on the floor next to the tub and knelt there again. Booth placed one hand on her head and another on her rigid belly. He had calmed down considerably, but his hands were shaking with suppressed anxiety.

"We're okay," she groaned. He coached her through three more contractions, each coming at a shorter interval and lasting a little longer than the one before. Brennan felt a sensation of immense pressure, and she reached down cautiously to confirm her suspicion. Their son was crowning. "I need to push."

"Okay, baby. You can do this. I'm right here." His words were confident, but his face went white when he saw the baby's head.

"Look at me," Brennan commanded, practically growling. "We're going to be just fine. _You_ can do this too." She took his hand and guided it down to touch their son's head. It felt strange and unexpectedly soft against his fingertips, but the emotional impact was profound. He shook off his fear and helped her to lean forward, curling an arm behind her shoulders.

"Alright, Bones, we're going to push when you feel another contraction, right?" She nodded, and when the pain took over again, she was beyond the power of speech. Brennan curled her body inward around the baby and followed the instinct to push. "You're doing great, baby. Breathe…" He wiped her face with a hand towel after a particularly rough contraction, and he felt overwhelmed by her strength. "You're incredible, Bones. I'm so proud of you."

Brennan gave a low whimper of acknowledgment as another contraction swept over her, and she squeezed her eyes shut as she pushed. It felt like nothing she could have imagined. The pressure was agonizing, but it was as though her body knew precisely what to do. It spasmed and stretched to bring forth new life, and Brennan let out a sob when the baby's shoulders emerged.

"Now, Booth," she instructed. Booth's own instincts took over, and he gently pulled the baby from her body, placing him immediately on his mother's chest. Brennan cried tears of relief and love as she cradled their son against her bare skin. "The suction," she prompted softly. But Booth was already there with the bulb syringe, clearing the baby's airway of remaining fluid. They both rubbed their hands over his soft, wrinkled skin, and the baby let out a cry of protest. The sound was both heart-wrenching and reassuring.

"He's here," Booth said quietly, tears streaming over his cheeks as he held his wife and son in his arms.

Brennan guided him through the steps of tying off and cutting the cord, and when they had managed to clean the baby a little, she brought him to her breast. It took a few moments, but he latched perfectly, and Booth was overwhelmed all over again at the sight of her feeding their son. Some distant part of his mind registered the sounds of paramedics calling out from the front door, but his eyes never left his family.

"Welcome to the world, Henry Joseph Booth."

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 **Thank you for reading my series! I am forcing myself to take a creative break for at least a couple of weeks before I start writing again. Real life has been busy lately too. Please click the Review button and share your reactions, whether to this chapter or the series as a whole. I know several of you hoped I would continue through all of the seasons, but my Booth and Brennan have evolved so far beyond their actual S4 counterparts that it would be too difficult to continue my established format.**

 **At this point, the plans for my next story are still in the brainstorming phase. I can tell you, however, that it be set in the pre-Jeffersonian days. Booth will be in the military, and Brennan will be helping his unit. But she won't be there to identify remains. :) Sound intriguing? I hope so!**

 **Much love and many thanks,  
Christi**


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